chere People that of loue reasonyng went Dant with beatryce fayre and gent Lo on the tother syde I might also se Cino of Piscoia wyth hym trust me Guydo of Rezzo and in that place Two other Guydos in lyke manner and case The tone of them was borne in boleyne The tother was a very ryght Cicelien Senicio and Francisco so gentle-of condicion And Arnolde and Daniell in lyke facion A great maker and dyuyser of loue And dyd great honour to his Citie aboue There was Peter also the Clerke famouse And Rambaldo with his stile curiouse That wrote for his beatryce in mont ferrato The olde Peter and with hym Geraldo Filile to that in Marsill bare the name And the prayse from Geneway by the same Geffray Rudell that sought his death Alasse vpon the water as he hymselfe dyd passe There was also Wilbon at that houre That in wryting to his Peramoure Passyd many other in his dayes Among these other that of loue sayes Was Amerego Barnardo Hugo and Anselme That in stede of speare shilde and helme Was theyr tounge and theyr fayre speach The loue of theyr Ladyes to besech I turned myne eyes from that companye And streight wyse I dyd there espye The good Thomaso that gate great prayse In Boleyne that citie in hys dayse O fleyng swetenes O paynefull wery lyfe What chaunce hath taken wyth woo and strife These my deare fryndes away from me Why am I not styll in theyr company Well may I perceaue howe feble and frayle Is mans lyfe all full of trauayle Well may I say it is none other thing But as a dreame or a shadowe passyng Or as a fable that when it is tolde The wynde and whether doth it holde Unneth was a lytle past the rule Of the commen lernars in scole When fyrste I dyd Socrates workes se And Lelius howe fayre they dyd agree Wyth these men I entende styll to goo Which I haue named hether vnto As those whose laude no man can well rehearse Neyther in ryme in prose nor yet in verse Wyth these two and dyuerse other in my dayes Haue I searched many dyuers wayes And from these noo man can me deuyde But for alwayes I wyll wyth them abyde Untyll the houre come â–ª that I shall dye For wyth these two gotten yet haue I The gloriouse Laurell wherewith my heade As a garlande all aboute is spredde In memory of her of which I wryte Uerses of prayses as I can endyte But of her which I so much commend For all my seruyce that I do pretend I cannot get neyther boughe nor lefe But payne heauines doloure and grefe And or I wryte the cause why she doth so I wyll wryte of the pensyfe woo That these vnwyse louers haue to loue The thyng is so farre my wytte aboue That for great Omer or for wyse Orpheus It were well mete they shoulde it dyscusse Then in folowing of my golden penne I wyll declare howe I and all these men Folowing this god by Dykes and by Dales With peynes and busines and with many tales This chylde vnto his kyngdome came Where Uenus hys mother was resydent than But so ouerwhart thyder was the wayes By busshes and woodes and other brayes That not one amonge all wyste where he was Nor howe it was wyth hym nor in what case There lyeth beyonde Egeo that grete see A delectable yle to beholde and se Because the sonne softly doth it warme The byrdes there full swetely charme In the myddes of this yle now expressed Is there a mountayne fayre ydressed With fayre flowres and fayre cleare water That it taketh awaye all sadde matter From the hartes of suche as be there This is the lande to Uenus moost dere Wherein the olde auncient men Made to this Uenus a temple then And yet of vertue it is so barrayne I saye That as it was so it is at this daye In that selfe same place tryumpheth this Lorde Of vs and other that he doth bynde in corde Of all nations from Tyle vnto Inde Innumerable of all men one maye fynde This Prynce in token of his great victory That he hath obteyned of louers so gloriouslye Caryeth with hym of poore louers the spoyle To gyue to hys wanton mother in that soyle Fyrst of all the louers thoughtes in his lappe He hath with hym fast closed in a trappe Uanytie embraseth hym and with hym doth go Fugytyue pleasure doth folowe hym also In wynter Roses he caryeth about In Somer yse this great God so stoute Doutefull hope before and behynde Shorte Ioye wauerynge and blynde Penaunce and sorow doth folowe the rest As in Rome and in Troy when it was opprest Thus with a noyse and a huge shoute Redounded the valleye there all aboute With a consent of byrdes fayre and swete And the ryuers that ranne by the strete Were of coloure breifly to endyte Greene blewe redde yalowe and whyte And euer the Ryuars rynnyng in that place When that the tyme of greate heate was Apon the freshe fayre greene flowres To comforte the herbers and the bowres Shadowes softe to kepe the sonne away The wether temperate by nyght and daye The Sonne nether to hoote nor to colde Plenty of deynties eate who woulde And pleasures dyuers to make a symple wytte Haue an olde feble harte for to vse it It was about the Equinoctiall lyne than When the fayre bryght Phebus began To chase the longe wynter nyghtes awaye And prougne laughes early afore daye In that tyme and in that selfe howre This great God of so hyghe powre Woulde tryumphe then and there worshipped be O our vnstable fortune for to se We ne coulde but as this God vs leade Hym to worshyppe se howe we speade What death what sorow woo and payne Hath the louer his purpose to attayne Nowe for to declare this matter by and by This Goddes chayre where that they sat on hye There was about it errour and dreames And glosynge ymages of all nations and realmes False opynion was entrynge the gate And slypper hope stode by theyr ate Wery rest and rest with wo and payne The more hygher he clam the lesse he dyd obtayn Damnable lucre was not wantynge there Nor profitable hurte alwayes in fere Cleare dishonoure and glory obscure and darke False lealtie lefte not there to warke Nor beguyldynge fayth nor furious busynes Nor slowe reason lacked not in the presse A pryson open entre who woulde When he was in gotten oute he ne coulde Within trouble confusion and mysery A sure sorowe a myrth vncertaynly Lyppary nor Ischa nor Uolcan boyls not so Strongile and Mongebell put therto As boyled the place where the castell was And briefly whosoeuer thyther dyd pas Is there bounde in hote and in colde In darkenesse euerlastynge in that holde Holden and tyed and kept by forse Crying for mercy tyll that he be horse In this castell syghynge for Sorga and Arno Was I prysoner many a longe daye so That by my wytte I coulde no meanes fynde
sawse Lo what it is a louer to be false This is he the famouse worthy knyght That betwyxt two systers standeth vpryghte The tone by hym was cruelly slayne The tother his loue in ioye dyd remayne He that goeth with hym in the route It is Hercules the stronge fierce and stoute That loue caused to folowe hyr daunce The tother whiche in louynge had hard chaunce It is Achylles the Greke so bolde That for Polexemes loue dyed as it is tolde There mayst thou see also Demophone And Phylys hys loue that sore dyd mone Hys absence wherby that she dyed Lo those that stande vpon the tother syde Is Iason and Medea that for his loue Deceaued hyr father his trueth to proue The more vngentle is Iason in dede That gaue hyr suche rewarde for hyr mede Hysyphyle foloweth and she doth wayle also For the barbarouse loue was taken hyr fro Next in ordre there commeth by and by He that hath the name moost excellently Of bewtye and with hym commeth she that ouersone behelde his beutye Wherby ensued innumerable of harmes Thoroughe out the world by Mars charmes Beholde I praye the among the companye Enone complaynynge full heauely For Parys that dyd hyr falsly betraye And toke in hyr stede fayre Helen awape Se also Menelaus the Grekysse kynge For his wyfe Helene in greate mournynge And Hermon the fayre Horestes for to call And Laodome that standeth all apall Crye for hyr loue the good Protheossolaus And Irgia the faythfull for Pollynisus Here I pray the the greuous lamentynges The syghes the sorowes and the bewaylynges Of the myserable louers in this place That are brought into so dolorous case That there spyrytes they are about to rendre Unto the false God that is so sclendre I can not nowe tell the all the names That the false God of loue thus tames Not onely men that borne be mortall But also the hyghe greate Goddes supernall Are here in this greate and darke presse What shulde I any more nowe rehearse Se where Uenus doth stande with Mars Whose heade and legges the yron doth enbrase And Pluto and Preserpyne on the other syde And Iuno the ielyous for all hyr pryde And Apollo with his gaye golden lockes That gaue vnto Uenus scornes and mockes yet in Thessalia with this boyes fyrye darte This great God was pearsed to the harte And for conclusion the Goddes and Goddesses al Of whome Uarro doth make rehearsall Beholde how afore loues'chayre they goo Fast fettred and chayned from toppe to too And Iupiter hym selfe the great myghty kynge Amonge the other whiche is a maruelous thing ¶ The second Chapter of the Tryumphe of Loue. ALl musynge wyth greate admiration As one astonnyed to see the fasshyon Nowe here nowe there I loked all aboute To se the order of this greate huge route And as my harte from thought to thought past I sawe twayne together at a caste Hande in hand they went in the prease Reasonynge together they dyd not sease Theyr straunge habyte and theyr araye And theyr language more straunge I saye Was vnto me so darke and obscure That what they ment I knowe not be ye sure Tyll my felowe by his interpretation Of that whiche they talked made declaration And then when I knewe what they were Into theyr presence I drewe me nere And perceaued that the one spirite was Frende to the Romaynes that there dyd passe The to ther contrary a perpetuall foo I lefte hyr then and to the tother dyd goo and sayde O Masinissa I the praye For Scypyons sake which thou dydst loue alway And for Sophonysba that standeth the by That I am so bolde be thou not angrye To demaunde the what thou doest here Masinissa aunswered with a sad chere I do desyre to knowe what thou shulde be For it is I tel the a great wonder vnto me That thou doest spye my great affection whiche that I be are with suche dilection To this my loue and to my tother frende That desyre of me and I wyll condescende To all that thynge that thou wylt haue me do I aunswered gently O hyghe prynce not so My poore estate desyreth no suche mede A small lytle fyer farre of in dede Bryngeth forth but a small lyght But thy royall fame O noble knyght Is euery where blowen and spredde This duke afore whome thou arte ledde I praye the gently kynge expresse Whether he doth lede you both in peace You and Sophonysba for I suppose That twayne suche louers as together goese In all the worlde were harde to fynde He aunswered and sayde thy wordes are so kind That although thou knowe hole the case Of all my loue howe greuous that it was Yet wyll I tell the thy fancy to appease And thy mynde to set at rest and ease That noble Duke that onlye had my harte So true and sure and fast in euery parte That I in frendshyp with Lelins may compare Whersoeuer his worthy baner dyd fare There was I wyth that moste worthy knyght But not so fortunate as he deserued by ryght For full of goodnes and grace was he Aswell wyth soule as in the fayre bodye Nowe after the Romaynes by singler honoure Had sprede theyr armes by myght and power To the extreme partes of the occident Thither wyth this valeaunt Scipion I went There was I in loue fyrst taken than Wyth this Sophonisba this swete woman And she with me in such a feruent guyse That I affirme and with so true aduyse That neuer two louers loued better Nor two true louing hartes nor sweter Agreade in one nor yet neuer shall But the tyme of duryng alas it was but small For sone vanished away our louely chere As I tell the yf that thou wilt me here For albeit I toke her to my wyfe And thought with her to haue led my lyffe The bond was broken forthwith in twayne By his holy wordes that more myght certayne Then all the worlde in such faruente case The knot he losed and I my selfe gaue place And nowe wonder for I in hym dyd see So highe vertue in all kynde of degree That as I may say by good comparison He is all blynde that cannot see the sonne And albeit that iustice was offence To oure true loue yet his high prudence And his deare frendshyppe dyd me compell For to folo we his sage worthy councell In honour a very father was he And in loue a chylde in yche degree A brother in yeres which me constrayned Wyth heuy harte with sighes depe payned Scipio to obeye whereby my wyfe Was constrayned for to lose her lyfe And that wyllingly rather then she Into vyle seruitude brought should be And I my selfe the mynister was To my great doloure to execute this case So ardently she desired the death That I my selfe as the trueth sayeth To her prayer dyd then condiscend To my great heuynes this was the ende I sent her venyme for to drynke Wyth such a sorowe as thou mayest thynke Y feuer thou feltes of
queynte arraye Not vsyd amonge vs at this present daye Which made me wonder what persoÌ„s theishuld be As one glad to learne and some new thinges to se There sawe I a boye on a firye chayre on hyghte Drawen with foure coursers all mylke whight Wyth bowe in hande and arrowes sharpe keene Against whome no shylde nor helme so sheene Myght in no wyse the mortale stroke wythstand When he shote wyth his most dreadfull hande To this also a straunge sight to se Two wynges vpon his shoulders had he wyth coloures more then I can wryte or tell A thousande dyuers this I noted well And all the rest were nakyd to the skynne Aboute the chayre where that this boye was in Some laye there deade gapynge on the grounde Some with his dartes had taken meny a wound Some were prysoners and could not scape away But folowed styll the chayre nyght and day I that sawe this wonderfull straunge sight To know what it mente dyd that I myght Tyll at the last I dyd perceaue and se My selfe to be amonge that company So had loue led me on that dawnce That as it lyked her so must I take the chawnce I then among that great number in that place Lokyng here and there in eche mannes face Yf any of myne Acquayntaunce I coulde se But none was there except perchaunce that he By age or death or payne was chaunged quyte As that I neuer had hym knowen by syght Wyth folowing that great kyng in that houre That is the grounde and cause of all dolowre Thus all astonied as I loked here and there All sodenly afore me then dyd there appeare A shadowe much more sadde for to regarde Than all the reste that I had sene or harde This sayd shadowe called me by name And sayd by loue is gotten all this fame Whereat I marueyled and sayde to hym agayne How knowest thou me to learne I wold be faine For who thou arte I doo not knowe at all So wonderous derke is here this ayre and all That I can nether perceaue nor yet well se What man thou art nor whence y t thou should be To that anone this shadowe to me sayde I am thy frende thou nedest not be dismayde And borne in Toscane where y u was borne perdye Thyne auncient frende if that thou lyst to se His wordes whiche that I knewe by dayes paste By his speche I knewe hym at the last All though his face I coulde not then well se And thus in talkyng together went we And he beganne and thus to me dyd saye It is right longe and thereto many a day That I haue loked the my frynde to se Amonge vs here in this our companye For thy face was to me a token playne That ones thou shouldest know loues payne To whome I made aunswere and sayde These wordes by me they cannot be denayde But the sorowe the daunger and the dreade That louers haue at the ende for theyr meade So put me in feare that I left all asyde Leste that my seruyce should be cleane denyde Thus sayd I and when he well perceyued Myne entention and my wordes conceyued Smylynge he sayde what flame of fyre Hath loue kyndled in thy hartys desyre I vnderstode then lytle what he ment For his wordes vnto my heade then went As fyrme and fast sure set anone As they had bene prynted in a marbell stone And thus for the newe game that I begane I prayde hym tell me of verie gentlenes than What people these were that afore me went He aunswered bryfely to myne intente That I should knowe what they should be And be shortly one of theyr companye And that it was my destany and lotte That loue shoulde tye for me such a knotte That I shoulde fyrst chaunge my heade to graye Or that I coulde vnclose that knot away But to fulfyll thy yonge desyre sayth he I shall declare what kynde of men they be And fyrst of the capteynes of them all His maner playne declare the I shall This is he that loue the worlde doth name Bytter as thou shalt well conceyue the same And much the more when the tyme shall be That thou shalt be amonge this companie A meke chylde in his lustye yonge age And in elde one all full of rage Well knoweth he that thys hath prouyd When thou by hym art heaued and shoued Thy selfe shall well see and vnderstand What a maister thou hast then in hande This god hath his fyrst byrth of ydelnes Noryshed with mankyndes foly and wantones And of vayne thoughtes plesaunt and swete To a sage wyse man nothynge mete Callyd a god of the people most vayne All be it he geueth for theyr rewarde and payne Some the death forthwyth out of hande Some alonge tyme in miserye to stand To loue I say them that loues not hym Fast tyed and fetred both cheke and chynne Nowe haue I declared to the this goddes feste Nowe wyl I tell the in order of the reste Hym that thou seest that so lordely doth go And leadeth wyth hym his loue also It is the valeaunte Cesar Iulius Wyth hym is quene Cleopatra the beutiouse She tryumphes of hym and that is good ryghte That he that ouercame the worlde by myght Should hymselfe ouer commen be By his loue euen as thou mayest se The next vnto hym is his sonne deare The great Augustus that neuer had peare That louyde more iustly then Cesar playne By request hys Lynya he dyd obtayne The thyrde is the dyspytefull tyraunte Nero That furyously as thou seest doth go And yet a woman hym ouercame Wyth her regardes Lo she made hym tame Beholde the same is the good Marcus Worthy to haue prayse for his lyfe vertuouse Full of phylosophy both the tounge and breste Yet for Fausteyn he standeth as arreste The tother two that stand hym by That loke both twayne so fearefullye The tone is Denyse the tother Alexander That well was rewarded for his sâ—â—aunder The tother was he that soore complayned Under Autander wyth teares vnfayned The death of Crensa and toke awaye The loue from hym as the poete doth saye That toke from Enander his sone deare Among the rest thou mayest se hym here Hast thou harde euer reason heretofore Of one that neuer would consent more To hys stepmothers foull and shamefull desires But flye from her syght and her attyres But wo alas that same chast honest mynde Was his death as thou mayst playnely fynde Because she chaunged hyr loue vnto hate Phedra she hyght that caused the debate And yet was it hyr owne Death also A sore punyshment vnto both them two To the sens that deceyued Adryan Wherefore it is full often founde than That one that blameth another parde He hym selfe is more to blame then he And who so he be wythouten any doubte That by fraude or crafte doth go aboute Another that trusteth hym for to beguyle Yt is good reason that wyth that selfe wyle He be seruyd wyth that same
loues woo and payne That it semeth my harte wolde brest in twayne She knoweth this and so well knowe I Be thou the Iudge and thynk I do not lye Thus loste I my dere hope and luste To kepe my fayth and not to be vniuste Unto my Scipio nowe seke yf thou may Yf thou caust se in all this great arraye Or ells perceaue in all this louers daunce So wonderfull and so straunge a chaunce Wyth these wordes that he declared to me Calling to minde as I myght playnely se The hoote fyery loue betwixt them twayne My harte euen there so relentyde playne As doth the snowe agaynst the feruent sonne When that his beames to sprede he hath begonne And this as these twayne passed by I harde her say and that right hastely This felowe pleased me nothing at all I am determined ye and euer shall To hate hym and all his nacion When that I harde her speake of this facion I sayd Sophonisba I praye the be in peace For bryfelye the truth to the to reherse Two times the Romaynes thy cartage oppressed That as theyr subiectes to be they all confessed The thirde tyme they destroyde it cleane That nowe vnneth thereof is nothyng sene Sophonisba answered to me agayne With short wordes and in great disdaine Yf Aufrike wept Italie had no nede For to make bost of theyr lucky spede Aske those that your hystoryes do wryte For they the trueth of both perties do endite Thus they went both together in fere Among the great prease here and there Smiling and talkyng that I ne might No more of them haue after that a sight Then as one that at aduenture doth ride To knowe the right way on euery syde Nowe standeth nowe goeth nowe hyeth a pase Euen so my fancye at that time it was Doubtefull and desyring to knowe by proue Howe faruently these twayne dyd loue Tyll at the last as I cast myne eye Upon the lyft hande I sawe me by One that had this straunge effecte To seme angry because he dyd abiecte His wyffe which he loued aboue all other By pytie to geue her to a nother And reioysed much so for to doo And all together as louers they dyd goo Talkynge of this merueylouse case And of Syrya that countre where it was I drue me nere to these spirites thre That were aboute as farre as I can see To haue gone from thense another way And to the first of them thus dyd I say I pray you sayde I a whyle for to abyde A none the fyrste he dyd cast his heade asyde When that he harde me speake Italyan And wyth a ryght angrye countenaunce than He stode styll and streyght began to tell That which I thought to be a great maruell Thou desyrest my frende to knowe sayeth he What I am and what that I should be I am Selencus brifely to discus And this afore the is my sonne Antiocus Which had great warre with y e Romaines nation But right agaynste fierce hath no dominion This woman that thou sest was fyrst my wyfe And after was his for to saue hys lyfe It was then â—efull for vs so to doe Her name is Stratonica she was called so And oure chaunce by loue was thus deuyded And vnder this facyon the matter was guyded My sonne was contented to release to my hande His great kyngdome and all his large lande I vnto hym my loue and lady deare When that I sawe hym for to chaung his chere And day by daye to drawe vnto the death So that vnneth he myght not drawe his breath I maruayled muche what the cause shoulde be Secretely my wyfe for trueth loued he That not disclosinge his wofull payne My dere sonne by loue was well nere slayne And had ben deade but that the wyse phisician Disclosed to me the very cause than Of all his sycknes whiche he kept close Surely this came of a vertuouse purpose And of a wonderous fatherly pytie of me Sayinge these wordes awaye went he So that I coulde vnneth bydde hym farewell And this was all that then he dyd me tell After that the shadowe thus was gone Syghynge and sadde I made great mone Because I myght not to hym disclose my hart But styll as I stode thus musynge aparte I knowe that Zerzes the great kynge of Perce Whiche ledde an Army as hystories reherce Of men innumerable had neuer such a sort As there was of louers barrayne of comforte So that myne eyes coulde not well suffyse To se theyr straunge fashyons and theyr guyse Uaryable of tounges and of so dyuers landes That amonge a thousand one that there standes I knewe not theyr person nor theyr name Nor yet in hystorye coulde descryue the same Parseus was one and fayne I woulde desyre Howe Andromeda dyd hyr selfe so attyre That although she blacke were pardie Borne in Ethiope that whote countrie yet her fayre eyne and her cryspe heare This Parseus harte in loue so dyd steare That as his loue the virgyn dyd he take And neuer after dyd that mayde forsake There was also the folysh louer playne That loued his owne pycter vayne That therby vnwysely he was brought to death And after as the hystorye playnly sayth He was conuerted by the diuine power Unto a fayre goodly pleasaunt flower Without for to brynge any frute at all And by hym emong these louers thrall Was she that was turned vnto a stone And now aloude doth aunswer euery one When she is called with voyce clere Next vnto this Ecco that dyd appeare Was yphys that had her selfe in hate Wyth other dyuers in a full pyteouse state Whiche were to longe theyr names for to reherse Eyther in prose or elles in ryme or verse But yet of some I wyll declare and tell Of Alcione and Ceice that loued so well That loue they had so ioyned for euer That nothynge could make them to disseuer Nowe clepyng now kyssynge as they dyd flye Serchynge the kyngedome of Esperye Now restynge together on a salte stone And by the Sea theyr nestes to make alone And I sawe also amonge that great route As here and there I loked me about The cruell doughter of kynge Nysus With flyght she fledde which is maruelouse Allauta was amonge them in the presse With theyr gay golden apples doubtles She was vanquyshed yea and ouercome By Hyppomone lo this is all and some Glad he semed to haue had the vyctory And amonge the other of this companye I sawe Atys and Galathea in his lappe And Poliphemon with greate noyse and clappe And Glanco shouynge amonge the sorte Crying for his loue without comforte Carmenite and Pico of Italy sometyme kynge Turne to a byrde which was a meruelouse thing There sawe I also Egeria complayne Because Syllayn was turned certayne Into a greate harde rocke of stone Whiche in the sea maketh many to mone Amonge the other that I haue rehearsed Was Cauase by hyr father oppressed In the tone hande a penne dyd she holde A sworde in
lyke fyre thus dyd I loue in woo The fyre was kyndled in that most fayrest face Euen as a sycke man that an appetyte hase And desyreth that to hym semeth swete Yet to this helth it is nothynge mete Euen so was I vnto all other pleasure Deaf and blynde out of all measure Folowynge hyr by so doubtfull wayes That it to remember those tymes and dayes I tremble and quake when therof I do thynke More then I can wryte with pen paper and ynke So that from the tyme that this befell Myne eyes for moysture semed a well My harte was pensyfe my lodginge was in dede Brokes sprynges and ryuers so dyd I lede My lyfe in busshes in grouets and in woodes Amonge the stones I sought none other goodes And to this so many papers whyte As in hyr prayse I payned to endyte When after I tore them into peces smal I was compelled agayne to wryte them all And all in loues cloystre what is done I know it well it cannot be vndone That there is feare and there is hope also Who wyll it rede and take hede thereto In my forehead there maye ye se it playne All my sorowe my doloure and my payne And for all this that wylde ioly dame That is the causer of all this same Goeth afore me and careth not at all Whether that I flete I synke or fall So is she proude in vertue set so hye That in hyr selfe she taketh glorye To haue me so fast hyr seruaunt bounde That I knowe not howe to heale my wounde And to this it is a maruelouse thynge The God of loue this great myghtye kynge It seemeth of hyr he is soore afearde When that she lyst to loke hymin the bearde So that hope doth me so ofte forsake That loue hym selfe no remedy can make For when he wyll any thynge with this mayde She doth not as other do that are afrayde But as one that is free she goeth in the race Not bounde but at lydertie with hyr fayre face And no wondre for she doth appeare Emonge the starres as the Sonne cleare Hyr porte is synguler hyr wordes are maruelous Hyr heare spred as the golde moost beutiouse The eyen kyndled with a celestiall lyght That well content to burne is my delyght Who can compare with hyr angelyke demure It passeth my connyng ye maye be sure As muche as the Sea passeth a lytle broke For who on good maners doth prye and looke A newe thynge it is and not afore seene Nor after shall not so dulse and sheene So that all tounges hyr beutye to expresse Are and shalbe muete doubtelesse With suche a one am I taken and with hyr tyde And she free from all loue on euery syde O wycked starre that my destanye doth leade Howe is it that I haue no better speade Day and nyght vpon hyr I do call But she nothyng bouse to pytie at all Nor scant will tary to heare what I saye Alas for pytye well mourne I maye A harde lawe it is thus to loue be kynde The waye not ryght but crooked for to fynde But yet to folowe it why shulde I saye naye When that not onely men doth goe that waye But the Goddes also that be celestiall Are not free from this payne at all He that is a louer ful well knowes this How that the hart from the bodye departed is How nowe he is in warre and forthwith in peace Howe when his loue doth shewe vngentlenes He wyll not be aknowen but his malady hyde Thoughe that it prycke hym both backe and syde This euell feele I and yet more there to When with my loue I haue to do The bloude for feare renneth to my harte And streyght abroade in my vaynes doth starte I knowe also howe hydde vnder the floure The serpent lyeth the louer to deuoure How alwayes the louer lyeth in dread and doute In great suspecte for to be put oute By another and so no rest I take Neyther when I slepe nor when I wake I knowe also howe to seke the place Where my loue is ay wont to passe And yet I stand in feare hyr to fynde Althoughe hyr selfe is prynted in my mynde I knowe also my selfe howe to beguyle With louynge and mornynge a great whyle Folowynge the damesell it is euen so That wyll burne me folowyng yet after I go I knowe moreouer how loue cryes and calles And wyll not be shytte out with dores nor walles But puttes by reason and wyll not go awaye Tyll he pearce the harte and all I saye I knowe also how sâ—â—â— a gentle harte Is tyed with a small lace and cannot â–ª start When the sences haue the better hande And reason put by and wyll not withstande I knowe to this how that loue doth shote How he flyes and strykes without geuyng boote How he threateth and robbeth with forse might And thus wronges his seruauÌ„tes against alright and I am not ignorauÌ„t how vnstable is his whele The hope doubtfull alwayes for to fele The doloure sute his promyse vntrue Ay desyrous to chaunge for thynges newe And how to this in the bones doth rest The hyd fyre that lyeth so opprest In the louers vaynes and that with such a wouÌ„d That at the last it bryngeth hym to the ground In conclusion I know loue so to be Inconstaunt waueryng and fearefull trust me Hauyng in it a lytle small swetenes Mengled with extreme payne and bytternes When he woulde speake cannot though he would Sodeyne scilence when his tale should be tolde A shorte laughynge with complaynt styll longe Gall tempred with hony this is the louers songe ¶ The fourth Chapter of the Tryumphe of Loue. AFter that my fortune thus hade me broughte And loue soo sore in my hart wroughte That cut were al my weake sely vaynes My lybertie gone and I in wofull paynes I that afore was wylde as any harte Was made then tame for my parte As well as all the other that were there And well knew theyr trauayle and theyr fere And wyth what wyte crafte and chaunce I and they were brought to loues daunce And then as that I loked all aboute If I myght spye among that hudge route Any person of cleare and high name That by wryting haue eternall fame I sawe hym that Erudyce dyd call Apon Pluto the great god infernall And folowed her as these hystories tell Downe vnto the depe dongeon of hell And dying dyd his loue clepe and call I sawe also euyn among them all Alceo Macreon and the wyse Pyndarus That in loue were all thre studiouse Uyrgyll was there I say in lyke case Wyth other excellent poetes in that place The tone was Ouyde the tother Catullo Propercius also and eke Tubullo That of loue wrote many a verse and songe And with this excellent Poetes amonge Was a Grecian that with her swete style Of loue full many a songe dyd fyle Ay lokyng thus about me here and there I sawe in a grene fielde with sadde
those that haue suche destanye They semed all fayre bryght starres The Sonne in the myddes that not debarres The lyght away but geueth them lyght Hauynge on theyr fayre heades on hyght Rose garlandes and vyolets fresh and gay And as a louynge gentle hart alwaye Getteth honour for his vertuouse lyfe So past this company without debate or stryfe When that all sodenly there dyd appeare A sadde blacke baner that approched nere And a woman wrapped all in blacke With suche a fury and with suche a wracke That vnneth I cannot the truth tell In the tyme of the great myghty gyauntes fell Were any so lothesome for to beholde and see Unto this Lady so gastly moued he And sayde O swete and excellent mayde That goest here moost perfytely arayde With youth and beautye and doste not se The terme that I shall present arrest the I am the same importune cruell best Callyd death fearefull that doth arrest All creatures wyth my greate force and myght Or the daye end◠makyng it the nyght It is I that hath quite and cleane wastyd The great grekes nation and also hastyd The noble Troyans vnto theyr declyne And last of all hath made to ende and fyne The Romaynes glory wyth this blade kene That prycketh and cutteth all away cleane And infinite of other barbarouse nations Using euermore these wayes and facions When that they loke not for me at all Wyth sodeyne stroke I make them downe to fall A thousand thoughtes of men frayle and vayne I haue broken this is true and certayne And nowe to you when lyfe semeth best Here am I comen your body to arrest Or any harde fortune to you chaunce to fall I wyll you take and ende not one but all This excellent Lady hauing no peare In al the worlde wyth sad and wise chere Aunswered vnto death there present agayne In these chast companyes this is true playne Thou hast no reason nor yet noo power And lesse of all other in me at this houre Onely the spoyle that thou shalt haue It is my chast body vnto the graue That well knoweth one as well as I That take well my death most heauely Hys lyfe on my health all doth depende But vnto the this is thy small ende It shalbe to me no displeasure at all To departe the frayle worlde lo this is all This cruell beast with hyr wyse reason Was no lesse marueld at that tyme and season Than one that doth a thynge in soden haste And when the dede is so done and paste Doth blame hym selfe of that that he hath done Euen so dyd this terrible monster soone And when he had hym selfe paused a whyle With a more softe speache and gentle style Thou sayes he that present here doest guyde This fayre chast bande on euery syde That hast not yet my fearefull stroke assayde By my councell be not so sore afrayde For that I wyll nowe do is for the best To make the fle O mayde from age opprest Whiche hath alwayes longynge thervnto Muche grief and dolour with payne longe wo And to this nowe present disposed I am Thou fayre creature and swete woman To do the suche honor present in this place That thy spirite shall from the body passe Without feare dolour or grief at all Be of good comfort O may de I haue sayde all This Angelyke creature when she had harde What death had sayde agayne aunswerd As it pleaseth Christ our Lorde almyghtye That ruleth and tempereth all thynges eternally Do thou vnto her as thou doest to all men Thus this fayre Lady aunswered there and then And lo euen there present all sodenly Full of dead bodyes theyr great place dyd lye In such a number that them for to rehearse It cannot be countyd in prose nor yet in verse Of Cateya of Marow of Spayne and Inde Innumerable deade of all mankynde There were those that men happy dyd call Kynges Emperours and Bysshoppes all Now be they poore as poore as beggers be stones Where is there ryches honour trowe ye Theyr scepters theyr crownes w t theyr preciouse Theyr myters of purple dected for the noones Gone is all theyr glory and theyr freshe luste A foole is he that to such thinges doth truste But those that wyll nedes hope thervnto At length shall se the matter to be so Them selues vtterly scornyd and beguyled When all theyr fancys shalbe quyte exiled O blynde fooles euen worse then madde For all the pleasures and ioyse ye haue hadde To your olde mother ye muste nedes passe And your names forgotten and turned to was What profyte hath it then bene vnto you Wyth swerde and blode strong nacions to subdue To mucke vp treasure and your soules to defyle It had bene better to haue lyued a whyle Porely in thys world with browē bread water But nowe wyll I returne agayne to my matter I say than whan the extreme houre was come Of thys fayre Lady this is all and some And that she must the doubtfull passe assay That puttes all the worlde in dreade and fraye There came to se her of women many one To knowe and se or that the lyfe were gone What payne the fayre Creature dyd abyde Both fryndes and Neybors diuers on eche syde And so as they her great beautie dyd beholde Death dissolued the fayre here of golde And so the fayrest flower that euer was He dyd roote vp Alas I say Alas Not for no hate that he to her then hadde But in heauen for to make her spirite gladde O howe many complayntes and bewaylinges Syghes and teares and other lamentinges Were there than among the women all When that that fayre bryght eyes celestiall For which many a swete songe I made Many a sonete many a freshe balade Were closed and shot vp Alas O wo is me This fayre Creature what trowe ye then did she Syt styll and glade in quiete and pease And gether the fructe of her vertuousnesse Go thy wayes O deare godes well content In peace and quiet with all thy vertues excellent But litle it auayled agaynst deathes myght Then if he haue agaynst such a one ryght What shall it be trowe ye of the reste O humayne hope with al mysery opprest In a fewe myghtes so swete a mayde Goone and past in so short a brayde So many teares for her death sprede Thou that seste it or heryst it redde Thinke what it is the worlde for to truste When such a creature is turned vnto dust It was for truth the sixe day of Apryll That loue to loue hyr dyd me compell And euen that same selfe houre and daye Death dyd take my loue and ioye awaye And nowe as fortune is wont for to chaunge Hath broken the knot and eke the raunge With suche sorowe vnto my wofull harte That I am afrayde I saye as for my parte To tell it ether in verse or in ryme It was to me so sorowfull a tyme Uertue sayde they that were present there Excellent beutye and moost
light Had you euer pitie in your harte Of my greate sorowes and paynes smarte Not leauynge aparte your hygh chast wayes Whiche that you vsed with me alwayes Nowe shewynge to me a swete dysdayne Nowe a swete angre to double my payne Nowe shewynge a peax wrytten in your eyes That hylde me so tyed and in suche wyse That doubtfull I was in what case I stoode Many yeares thus I in loue abode Scant had I these wordes to hyr sayde When that I sawe euen at a brayde That swete smylyng and fayre countenaunce That somtyme was my ioye and plesaunce My comforte my lust and my reioysinge In this wise to me moste graciouse speking From the my hart was neuer deuyded Nor neuer shall but that I prouided Dyuers tymes with my wyse regard I tempered thy loue y t well neer thou had marde Because there was as than none other way Oure feruent loue with honest for to stay Therefore in lyke case as thou sest a mother Correcte her deare chylde for no nother But all to brynge her to good frame Euen so dyd I then vse the same And sayde to my selfe full many a season This man not louys but burnes out of reason Wherefore it behoueth me for to prouyde In this hard daungerouse case on euery syde And surely full euyll prouydeth he That loketh outwarde and doth not se What is inwarde in such a peryllous case This in my pitefull harte toke then place And thys to the as a brydell was than As thou seest by a horse reuled by a man Wherefore somtime I shewed me wonders glade Somtyme agayne to be as sober and sadde And yet I loued as hoote and true as you Allwayes sauing the chosen honest dowe Which soo my will than and euer opprest That reason reulde my desyre at the lest And when that agayne I dyd beholde and se Thy sorowe to greuouse and paynefull for to be Swetely and gently on the myne eyes I sett Thy helth and welfayre agayne for to gett Thys was euer my wise honest wayes That I honestly vsed with the in those dayes And when I sawe the teres droppyng auayle Downe thy pale chekes lyke vnto the hayle Then I dyd pray and softly then I sayde Here it is necessarye I geue anone an ayde And when that thou were forthwith agayne Into to much hope my loue for to attayne Anone vnto my selfe euen thus sayde I Here of necessitie must be had a remedye A harde and strayt byt I muste nowe put to Thus with dyuers colours many mo Myth hoote with grene with golde with white I kepte the alwayes styll in honest plyte Thou knowest this well and hast it tolde And in many a swete sonet it encolde When she had sayde these wordes to me playne With tremblyng voyce I sayd to her agayne Your wordes to me should be passyng were For the greate loue and most fetuant here That I haue euer borne my ioy to you If I beleuyde them faythfully to be true O vnfaythfull man then answered she Why shoulde I say these wordes vnto the If that my wordes were not true and iuste Nowe then I tell the disclose my hart I muste If in this world lyuing to my sight I toke in the luste pleasure and delight I kept it secret where thou I say agayne Thy loue to all men dydest make it playne There was no dyfference in our loue at all But that my true loue was ioyned all In moost honest wyse so for to be But nowe one thynge I wyll demaunde of the When that thy swete balettes I dyd synge Dyddest thou then doubte of me in any thynge I thynke playnly nay and therfore thus Though for a tyme I was contrarius By louynge straunge and semyng so to be A thousande tymes thou mayst trust me With my thoughte alwayes so I farde Thou haddest of me an inwarde swete regarde And more thy mynde at that tyme to appease I wyl tell the that thynge that shal the please It greueth me sore that I was not borne By thy fayre citie I saye to the therforne Althoughe my countre full pleasaunt be I woulde my nest had ben nere to the Lest that percase thy mynde shulde chaunge And loue some other amonge so great a raunge To these wordes no worde then I sayd The thyrde celestial speare had so arrayde And lyfte in loue so sore my louynge thought That aunswer hyr at that tyme coulde I nought Then she to me with a benigne loue and chere I haue in this world by the great honour here And shal haue alwaye marke wel what I shal say The nyght is past now commeth the bryght daye Yf that to me thou wylt more saye swete hart Be short I byd the for I must hence departe O sayde I myne owne swete Lady dere For al the sorowe and payne I haue had here In louinge you these wordes so fayre and swete Doth recompence my loue and makes all mete But from you thus for to be seperate playne Is vnto me a deadly mortall payne But one thynge nowe to me you must declare Or that ye from my wofull presence fare Shall I lyue longe tell me after you Or shortly as I woulde O Lady you ensue She aunswered gently as farre as she coulde tell Longe after hyr on earth here should I dwell ¶ The ende of the Tryumphe of Death ⧠The excellent Tryumphe of Fame AFter that deathe had triumphed in that face Which often of me had tryumphed in lyke case And that the sonne of our world was dead and past This ougly and di spytefull beaste at the last Pale and horrible and proude for to se With hyr blacke baner awaye goeth she When that she had extincte our quyte Of perfyt beutye the very clere lyght Then as I dyd loke about on euery part Commyng towardes me there I dyd aduert Hyr that mans lyfe for euer doth saue And pulleth hym out alyue from his graue This gloryous fayre Lady muche lyke was she Unto that bryght starre that goeth trust me In the orient or the cleare day appeare Euen in lyke maner was this Ladyes chere So that there is no mayster in no Scole Can take vpon them to descrybt that Sole That I go aboute with symple wordes to tell So muche great in glory ths Lady dyd excell That all the element about her dyd shyne Not as a mortall but lyke a thyng deuyne Grauen in theyr foreheades were the names Of the honorable people whose hyghe fames By valure and vertue can neuer dye Folowynge this noble fame there sawe I Many of those of whyche I tofore haue rehersed That by loue as sayd is were sore oppressed On her ryght hand there fyrst in my syght Was Cesar and Scipion that honorable knyghte But which of them twayne next to fame was I do not remember but there they both dyd pas The tone in vertue the tother in loue Was taken though he semed somewhat aboue And then forthwith was shewed vnto me After these twayne
barkyng doges for feare they in be Euen in lyke wyse scattered here and there Shalbe these proude men with all there gay gere And playnely perceaue that to there hurt it was All such lucre when these thinges come to pas But those that by grace haue brydled such delight In refraining their vayne and couetouse appetite And measured false fortune with an honest vse Be mery together without fraude and abuse Those be sure and certayne for to be With the saintes in perpetuall ioy and felicitie These fyue Tryumphes y t I haue here rehearsed And vnder a straunge colour them expressed Haue newe by godes sufferaunce an ende With this the sixt whereto I dyd pretend Then ye that rede thys thynke this state eterne and thinke that the tyme that doth discerne This vnstable world turnyng to and froo and fearefull gastly death it is playne so all shall vanyshe doubtles foreuer away Beleue me this is sure after the last day And those that haue worthely by vertuouse fame Spent well there tyme lyuing without blame And by vertue made both death tyme to fere Whyles that they lyued in this frayle world here In theyr most freshe and lustye young courage They shall aryse tryumphantly about that age With beautie immortall and high fame eterne Neuer after that tyme for to feele no harme But then afore all other that there shall be In that endles glory we shal beholde and se My fayre swete lady of whome so much I write More beauteous then the sonne in his hyest light There is a litle ryuer Gebenna men it call Where first in loue I chaunched for to fall There loue dyd make me so longe a cruel awarre That yet I dread to thynke vpon that starre Happy is that stone that couereth that swet face Wherin there resteth so much beautie and grace If that then I were happy in thys lyfe it to se Here on this vyle earth so perfect in degree After that this swete gratiouse Lady hath taken That same fayre dispoyle y t semyth now forsaken What shal it be I praye you to tel me this Then to beholde hyr eternall blysse The ende of the Tryumphes of Fraunces Petrarcke ¶ Uyrgyll in his Epigrames of Cupide and Dronkenesse ¶ Nec viui nec tu veneris capiares Amore THat wonderous wytty Uirgil y t so wel cold endight The wayes to wyne to vertue righte harde for to attayne In his sentēsiouse verses declareth with reasō right Howe that both wyne and women doth put a man to payne He sayth in passyng measure with eyther of these twayne It is a thyng abhominable Nowe here what he doth tell Although my ryme be rude to touche so high a vayne Yf that ye marke this doctrine doubtles ye shall do well Thus sayeth our famouse poete loue not to much wyne Nor yet on wanton Uenus set not to much thy mynde For lyke as wanton Cupide thy strength doth quyte declyne So doth thys wyne thy force and all thy senses bynde Maketh a man to slacker and stumble as the blynde That he forgetes hym selfe his enemie to repell Altereth and defaseth mans nature and his kynde Yf that ye marke this doctrine doubtles ye shall do well Uenus is ful of pleasure who can to this say nay But if it fall to rage then reason goeth asyde Then turneth it to werynes and to a greuouse playe Most paynefull to hymselfe when he is most in pryde Unneth his secrete pastymes the foole he doth not hyde No more then doth the dronkerd that all on wyne doth smell They are not much vnlyke when reason hath them tryed If that ye note this doctrine doubtles ye shall do well Who that with wine is whitled no counsell will he kepe Aswell his frende as foo shall knowe all his entent Who so with Lady Uenus in brased armes doth slepe Doth now and then disclose that thing he doth repent And this is not the worse that on this twayne is ment These bryng in warre and wo the one the other to quell Somtime but for a tryfle tyll lyfe and all be spent If that ye note this doctryne doubteles ye shall do well Parys by Uenus councell brought Helene vnto Troy Though that the pryce was swet the ende was passyng sower For many a worthy warryor therby dyd lese theyr Ioye And Troy turned vnto Asshes both castel wall and towre This wanton wylfull dalyeng raysyd so great a shoure That of that happe that happened the worlde doth speake tel Loo howe Uenus can flatter when she thinketh to deuoure If that ye note this doctrine doubtles ye shall do well Then yf that wyne and Uenus haue ones the vpper hande And on the one or both the mynde set in a rage All honestie is excluded and wytt tyed in a band And vertue fayre and dread fast locked in a cage Although he be a lorde yet serues he as a page Two periouse noughty vices worse then a fend of hell Where that these monsters rule right hard for to aswage If that ye note this doctryne doubtles ye shall do well Wyll ye then be wise and learne to rule these twayne Do as oure Uirgill counseles and ye shall lyue in reste Tye vp both wyne and Uenus fast fetered with a chayne Lest that with theyr rewardes the mynde be not opprest Let wyne but quenche thy thurst so is that lycour best Let Uenus serue to multiply our nature that doth excel But and ye passe these bondes then is the goodnes ceast If that ye note this doctryne doubtles ye shall do wel Measure is more worth then golde or precious stone And in forsakynge measure a good thynge turnes to vyce To to muche at length hath caused many a one For to descende as fast as they dyd vp aryse Then thus for to conclude I count hym perfyt wyse That rules hym selfe in measure and toto doth repell So vse both wyne and wemen that ye be not to nyse If that ye note this doctryne doubtles ye shall do well Finis Epitaphium Henrici Parkeri Equitis Domini Morley quod ipse adhuc uiuens composuit suo sepulchro inscribi uiscit Clste parum quaeso uiator pauca hee uerbalege cum inter-mor tales dalcius nihil est quam amicitia uera teste inuoco Iesum Christum eternum iudicem me inclitum Henricum Comite Arundel tam ardenter dum uita comes fuit amasse Vt moriens hoc cor meum sibi familieque sue commen dabam felicem me rudicans quod nec ipsa mors qui cuncta consumit rapit calcat suppeditat non potuit qui pars mei corporis diuinissima ut puta sedes animi immorta les in loco ubi tam fidelis Carus amicus quiesset ibi cor meum quiesseret Diui dei pari uirgine Mariae praecare quietem Viue uale Auctores incerte Transit honor mundi non transit gloria cels Ipse simul fugies si fugitiua tenes Nil tibi continuum breuitas mutabilis eni Nil patitur tutum mortis amara dies The englysh of these verses The honour of the false world doth passe But the glory of heauen none ende has If then thou folowe false fugitiue felicitie Thy selfe shalbe fugitiue it must so be Then remember nothynge continueth euer The short mutable tyme that taryeth neuer Suffers to no man no suerty for to haue Tyl bytter death doth lay hym in his graue Finis ⧠Printed at London in Powles churchyarde at the sygne of the holy Ghost by Iohn Cawood Prynter to the Quenes hyghnes Cum priuilegio Regiae Maiestatis
Oute for to gette there I was so blynde One remedye at the leaste there I founde Whyles that I was in loue thus bounde My wytte on hyghe thynges was euermore set To knowe what loue is whiche was so great That I therby coulde well discerne What was to be done in suche harme And thus hauynge great compassion Of suche that were in loues pryson My harte relented euen as doth the snowe Agaynst the hoote Sonne ye may me trowe Merueylynge to se so many noble men To be in so darke a pryson there and then None otherwyse but as one that doth se A pycture well made in conformyte Goeth the foote forwarde it for to espye And yet loketh backwarde with his eye So at that tyme I loked all aboute To consydre this greate companye and route ¶ The ende of the Tryumphe of Loue. ¶ The excellent Tryumphe of Chastitie WHen that I sawe euyn afore my face In one tyme and in one Selfe place The hyghe god that reigneth aboue And men mortall subdewede also by loue By theyr example and by there great â—all Some profyte to my selfe then dyd I call And some comeforte it was also to me Euen as other were I for to be When Phebus a god was taken in that lure And the yonge Leader a man pure Both twayne strycken wyth loues darte And Iuno and Dydo lasyd with that parte Not that Dydo that men doth wryte That for Eneas wyth death was dyte But that noble Lady true and iuste For Sychen her ioye and hartes luste I ought not to morne thoughe that vnware I were taken in loues craftie snare Being but a very yonge man of age For to be vanquished wyth such a rage And yf that my Lady that I loue best Wyll not with loue in no wyse be opprest But be mine enemies in such a thyng I haue no cause of great mournyng For as muche as I do call to mynde What hurt by that that she should fynde I knowe also that by her reason She doth so guyde her in eche season That loue by her is so abatyd That it doth seme this god is hatyd Which when that loue dyd playnely se He was so chafed trust ye well me That the lyghtnyng that falles from the skye And beryth downe all euen by and by Nor the lyon soo woode in his rage So assayde not that tyme for to assuage Wyth all his argumentes that he coulde make This Lady I reason of prysoner to take Nor she agayne I say for her parte When that she well and wisely dyd aduert What Cupyde was aboute wyth her to do The whurling wind flieth not so faste so As she agaynst hym wyth vertue went Tolet this great god of his intent What should I say Etna that hyll That boyleth and burneth euermore still Maketh not a more terrible soune When that Enchelado would shake it downe Nor Sylla nor Carrybdys when angry they be Then loue assayde you may trust me To wyne my Lady in suche wyse When that he sawe hyr loue dyspyse Eche man there drue hymselfe aparte The great horrible stryfe for to aduert Up to a place that were meruelously hye To loke to what ende this should applye Thys god that the vanquer as is tolde Of mortall men both of yonge and olde Toke in his ryght hand Arrowe sharpe and kene And in the tother a bowe bryght and shene And drewe it vp this Lady to feare In great hast and anger vp to his eare And this dyd he in such great violence That a Leoparde that maketh pretence The fugytyfe hart for to cache and take Coulde not more hasty haste make Then loue dyd wyth his fyery face This fayre Lady with craft to compase I that sawe the maner and the guyse Was soore moued in double wyse Pyte ferde me lest that I shoulde se So swete a Creature vanquished for to be Desyre agayne would haue be gladde That I my purpose myght then haue hadde But vertue that with the good is euer Shewed at that tyme that he dyd neuer Forsake hym that hym doth truste This fayre Lady my hartes luste When she dyd se the stroke at hande Was neuer mayster that doth withstand In the shyppe on the parlouse Rocke to fall Then she that then and forth with all Dyd awaye from loues stroke glyde Wyth such a honestie one euery parte and syde Which then apperyd in her swete face That loues fyery darte had there no place I that stode styll with wonderouse sadde entent To se wher vnto this matter went Hopyng the vyctorie to me should fall And that I shulde he hyrse hole and all As one that hath or he would speake Wrytten in hys heade and harte eke What he wolde say euen so do I Thynke to say euen by and by My lorde yf that you wynne the fyelde Bynde me with her for I doo yelde And let me neuer from her depart Whyles that the lyfe is in my harte And yf that vnworthy that I be To be with this Lady in company All though for euer in loue I dure Here styll wyth you do tye me sure Whyles that I mynded thus for to saye She loked on me that moste swete may Wyth such a graue and a wyse sadde chere That for to speake it I dreade and feare For I not onely that haue smale wytte But that man also for to declare it That had the moste excellent wytte and reason Should haue marueyled at that tyme season For this loues golden and fyery shafte Euen by it selfe there it fell aparte Seyng the honestie as I haue here tolde In my loues breste that then was colde So that Camilla that fayre ladye gent That with the lyfte brest to battell went Nor Cesar in Tessalia agaynst Pompeus Was nothyng to speake of so Ualerouse As she was agaynst loue there and than That euery stronge shielde breake it can Armed was she with all her route With vertues compassed all about O what a gloryouse bande there was That agaynst loue with hyr dyd passe Twayne and twayne and hande in hande This noble army together dyd stande Honestie and shamefastnesse they went before A great gyfte of God for euermore That made this Lady for to shewe and shyne Not lyke no mortall but lyke deuyne Wyt and sobernes folowed the trace Well set in hyr harte without arrace And perseueraunce came with the reste Whiche kept her honour not to be opprest Fayre entreatynge was not behynde Nor clemesse nor curtesy that is so kynde Purytie of heart and feare of shame Was there in presence loue to tame Olde wyse thoughtes in a yonge tender age And gratiouse concorde all fury to asswage And beuty lacked not with a chast clene thoughte All these agaynst loue my Lady broughte With the fauoure of heauen that halpe therto And the blessed holy saynetes ayde also That vnneth my syght coulde well susteyne To se suche a company in that playne There sawe I this felowshyp take the spoyle A thousande palmes in that